Bringing Home Baby
by muchmadness
Summary: ... with a twist. DL. Suspense. Strong T.
1. Chapter 1

Sequel to _Waiting for the Fire_. I don't own the characters.

* * *

"What are we going to name him?" Danny asked, holding the baby gingerly as he walked slowly over to his girlfriend.

"I have no idea," Lindsay snorted. She held out her arms and took the baby. Danny leaned over and brushed her hair back. It still stuck to her head in some places, dried sweat and tears that acted like glue on her skin. She looked too pale, he worried, and he took her yoghurt from the bedside table.

"How about …" Danny pondered, slowly stirring the yoghurt with a spoon, "… Liam?"

"Too old."

"Uh … I got nothin'." He took a heaping spoonful of the yoghurt and put it in Lindsay's mouth. She smiled and swallowed it before looking back down at the baby.

"One name? That's all you had?"

"Well it's not like we talked about this. You kept saying 'we'll know when he comes.'" He mocked her words, putting on a high voice and twirling invisible hair with a finger.

"Oh shut up, you," Lindsay laughed, "I just spent ten hours shoving your kid out of my … you know. You have no right to mock me."

Danny chuckled and fed her another spoonful. "Fine. Um … Nate?"

"Cute." She thought about it. "I don't know. I really don't like Nathaniel."

"Who said Nathaniel? I said Nate."

"Nate Messer?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Not."

"Fine, fine. Dominic?"

She grinned. "It's pretty. Dominic Messer." She feather-touched the thin wisps of hair on the baby's head.

"Will you please let me propose to you now?"

"It's not time yet."

"Not time? Ya kidding me?"

"You'll know."

"Lindsay," he groaned, "you've spent the last year and a half telling me that."

She laughed weakly, "You'll know. You will. I don't want it to be forced."

"It's not forced! I love you! Now can I please just marry you already!"

She giggled. "No. Not yet."

"Jesus you're difficult." He leaned over and touched his son's cheek. The skin was smooth and delicate. He was scared that if he pressed any harder than the gentle, feathered stroke of the baby's cheek, he'd bruise the skin. The idea made him shiver slightly. "So, you think Dominic?"

"What about a middle name?"

"I'm only one man, Linds. I'm not a baby book."

She smiled. "OK, then. I'll pick it. Gorbachev."

"You do and I'll never forgive you."

"Why? He was a wonderful premier. He practically re-made Russia, engaged in talks to promote an end to the Cold War …"

"Alright, alright. I'll pick a name. Oliver."

"Dominic Oliver?"

"Yeah." He crawled over next to her and rested his head on the pillow next to her shoulder. He kissed the skin where the hospital gown had slipped.

"I like it. Dominic Oliver Messer. You want fill it out on the birth certificate?"

He smiled and took the pen from the table. "Seems kinda big for such a little guy."

"You picked it."

"Well I guess it's shorter than Dominic Gorbachev Messer."

Lindsay jokingly pursed her lips and pretended to think about it. "It sounds kind of nice, actually. Are you sure you don't want it?"

"Very funny." He filled out the little card and put it back on the bedside table. "Has he opened his eyes yet?"

"No. But he's asleep. It would be weird if he did." She winced and touched her breast. "It really hurts when he breastfeeds."

"Yeah?" Danny asked, holding one of Dominic's feet and touching it gently.

"Uh huh. And I've only done it once."

"Want me to massage it for you?" he asked with a smirk.

She shoved him lightly with her hip, smiling. Her face crumpled.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked, sitting up, "Are you all right? Should I get a nurse? Tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing. I'm just still really … achy."

"Oh," he said, and sat back carefully. "It still hurts?"

"You shove something this size out of your dick, and tell me it won't smart for a couple of days."

Danny winced in sympathy. He reached out his arms for the baby and sat up. Lindsay placed him in his arms and turned over to watch them. "He looks like my grandfather," Danny muttered, "when he was about eighty five."

Lindsay laughed.

* * *

"Time to get you home," Danny said cheerfully.

"I haven't moved into your place yet," Lindsay sighed, "and I need some of my clothes. I'm all out."

"Well, while you were here lazing off," Danny said, earning him a smack on the arm, "Flack and I moved all your crap into my place."

Lindsay smiled happily. "I kept worrying that we hadn't done it. I thought you'd have to take the baby for a night while I got my stuff packed. Oh, did you get the crib set up?"

"Yeah."

"And his room, did you paint it?"

"Yeah."

"Did you put the sheets on the crib? Because I don't think I put them in your place, you'd have to look for them in my living –"

"I got 'em, Linds. Now stop worrying."

He picked her up and put her into the wheelchair. She fiddled with the edge of her loose shirt, once one of Danny's. She was getting tired of sitting in the bed, staring at the weight she knew she'd have to loose.

Danny lifted her into the car and fastened her seatbelt for her. Stella came out holding the baby in his carrier. Danny helped her fasten it in the backseat. Stella got in back to watch him. Danny drove home slowly, earning him several long, bleating honks from the other cars. Lindsay thought it was funny.

"I wish you'd kept the motorcycle," she said wistfully.

"What am I supposed to do with a motorcycle? I got the kid now. You think the carrier can attach to the bike?"

Lindsay pictured it and giggled. "I guess it would be a little weird."

"Ya think?" Stella added.

He pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. "I'll get the girl, you get the kid," he called to Stella before swinging Lindsay up into his arms.

* * *

"You know, eventually, I'm going to have to walk again," Lindsay reminded Danny as he fed her toast.

"Not for a while. Take a break. It's my turn now," he murmured, holding the toast to her mouth again.

She took a bite and chewed slowly. She closed her eyes and lay back on the pillows. "I'm so tired," she mumbled.

"Take a nap."

Dominic wailed from his crib next to them. Lindsay pouted. Danny put the plate with the toast aside and lifted Dominic from the crib. He handed the baby to Lindsay and crawled in behind her to help her sit up.

"He's so pretty," Lindsay murmured, "even for a little baby."

"Yeah," Danny agreed, sliding one arm under hers to help support the baby.

* * *

"It won't be that bad," Lindsay promised, "I'll be fine."

Danny shoved the phone closer to her. "Call me every two hours, OK? Even if you don't need anything."

"Danny, go! You've been gone from work a week now. Mac is going to kill you if you're late."

"Just promise you'll call."

"I'll call."

He helped her sit up and pulled the covers up to her waist. She grabbed a magazine and sat, staring pointedly at him. He brushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. He got up and walked over to the bassinet, where the baby was sleeping. He touched the baby's arm gently.

"Bye, kid," he said softly, and went out the door.

Lindsay smiled and shook her head. "Finally," she grumbled.

"Call me!" she heard Danny holler from the kitchen. The door banged shut and she heard the lock click.

* * *

"I got food!" Danny yelled as he shut the door behind him. His first day back had gone on forever, and he'd barely had time to remember to get dinner for them. He really didn't see either himself or Lindsay cooking that night.

He chided himself for yelling once he realized that the two of them must have been sleeping. The doors to their bedroom was shut, the lights off. He carefully set the food on plates and headed into the bedroom.

The plate dropped from his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note: Smoking is bad. I am not advocating it._

_Also, thanks kcatlin for her help._

* * *

"When did you last see them?"

"This morning."

"Is there anyone who might want to hurt your girlfriend?"

"I don't know, I guess."

"You _guess_?"

"She's a cop. She makes people mad."

"How long have they been gone?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, when was the last time you contacted them?"

"She called me, a half hour before I got home. Told me to get dinner."

"Is there any way she left of her own accord?"

"I told you already, she can't. She just had the baby. She can barely walk."

"Sir, please stay calm."

"I'd stay calmer if you'd quit telling me that," Danny snorted. He stood from his spot on the couch and tried to head back into the bedroom. He stood behind the 'crime scene' tape and watched Mac and Sheldon dust the room for prints.

"Find anything?" he asked hoarsely. His eyes travelled over the mussed sheets, the broken lamp, the overturned chair.

"No, Danny, not in the past three minutes."

Danny ran his hand through his hair and sat on the couch again. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. Had there been anything in her voice? Had she been speaking in code? He thought back over what she'd said, trying to pull each word out and turn it over in his mind. _Hey honey, just checking in. _She'd sounded calm, but tired. She'd asked for sushi. Low sodium soy sauce. Diet coke. She'd said please and he'd heard the smile in her voice because she knew he would do it.

He gave a small groan. Officer Phillips patted his shoulder awkwardly. "We'll find her," he promised.

Mac came out of the bedroom holding a tiny piece of rubber between a pair of tweezers. "Danny, can I see you for a second?"

Danny leaped up and jogged over to him.

"Do either of you have a shoe sole that matches this color of rubber?"

"I don't think so, lemme check," he said quickly, and went into the closet, his head light. He quickly looked at his own shoes, then Lindsay's. "Nope. No light brown rubber."

Mac smiled. "There's a little bit of trace on it, I'll go over to the lab and check it out. Sheldon? You OK for now?"

Hawkes nodded and continued carefully dusting the headboard of the bed.

"I gotta get outta here," Danny mumbled. He walked out of the apartment after Mac. Mac waved him goodbye from the lower level. Danny jogged to the newspaper stand and bought a pack of cigarettes.

Lighting one, he thought of how Lindsay would kill him if she knew he was smoking. _Let her kill me, so long as she's safe now. I don't fuckin' care anymore. Just let them be OK._

He took a long draw of the cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He breathed it out and coughed. _When was the last time I coughed while smoking? When I was ten?_ It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't coughing because of the smoke, rather because he was sobbing his eyes out on a street corner, completely unaware until the cold wind dried the tears coursing down his cheeks.

* * *

"Hawkes, you got anything?" Stella asked as she stepped into trace.

"I don't know," he said slowly, watching the mass spectrometer work.

"What's in there?"

"I smelled something sweet and chemical on the pillow. I wasn't sure what it was, but I thought …"

"Chloroform?"

Sheldon nodded. The machine beeped, and displayed methyl trichloride. Sheldon winced. "Yep. Chloroform. This is bad."

"Someone took her," Stella reasoned. "It's what we expected."

"It's bad, Stel. They've had her for nearly two hours now." He stared back down the microscope, his voice sounding too strained and too weak. "Danny's going crazy, the trace on the shoe was inconclusive, and she's been drugged – her body's not in top form, and she has a two week old baby with her."

"Sheldon."

He looked up.

"Stop." Stella's eyes were glistening. "We can't do this now. Just analyze the chloroform. See if there's anything distinctive about the chemical makeup. Just work. We'll find them if we work."

He smiled weakly. "I'm sorry. I'll work on it."

She clapped his shoulder. "I'm going to get a start on the fingerprints from the window. Run them by Lindsay and Danny's reference prints."

* * *

"Fucking fuck. Fucking fucker. You stupid fucking fucker!" Stella screamed. She hit the computer and sat back roughly in her chair.

"No hits, I take it?" Sheldon asked from the doorway.

Stella whipped around, and saw that it was him. "Oh, hey. No, nothing."

Hawkes sighed and put his arm on the table, leaning heavily on it. "This is hard," he muttered, "I don't like it."

"We'll get her."

"Danny can't last long," Sheldon said gently.

"I know," Stella responded, "I know."

* * *

Danny showed up at the lab, eyes dark, and headed into Mac's office. Mac was on the phone, talking to someone. Danny tapped the table, getting his attention.

"And you say this woman has dark hair? How dark?"

Danny eyed Mac carefully.

Mac listened intently to the caller, then frowned. "That's the wrong color. We'll send someone over to look at her anyways…. Yes, thank you, too. Goodbye." He hung up the phone.

"What …" Danny started.

"It was a hospital right outside the city. They had a Jane Doe with a bullet wound. She'd just given birth. Dark hair. They said it was almost black, though. I just want to be sure. I sent over a picture, and I'll send an officer who knows Lindsay to check."

"Anything else?" Danny rasped.

"Hawkes confirmed that there were traces of chloroform on Lindsay's pillow. There was a partial print on the bassinet that didn't match you or Lindsay, and several prints on the window that don't match you guys either. No hits in CODIS."

"And? What else?" Danny prompted.

"Trace from the rubber was inconclusive."

Danny shoved away from the desk and put his hands on his head, thinking. "I … we could … did you call her mother?"

Mac nodded. "And a few of her friends in Montana, too. They haven't heard from her."

"What about her friends in New York? That guy from her old building … Mick something …"

"Danny, it's a waste of time. We should be looking for people who have something against her."

"She could be fine. Maybe she went out."

"She just had a baby; the room was a mess; Danny, there's no way –"

"What if she's fine!" Danny shouted. His voice echoed through the room. "She could be fine! Stop acting like she's dead!"

"Danny …"

"NO! I hate this. The chloroform could be something else. The mass spec could be wrong. The prints might be friends of ours. Employees at the store where we bought them. Maybe we're wrong. She might be getting some coffee, out to lunch with the baby – Mac, she could be fine! So stop telling me we have to look for prints and suspects, because she could be …" he swallowed, trying to wet his parched mouth. "She could be…" his voice failed him. He sat down, blinking back tears.

"We'll find her, Danny," Mac said softly.

Danny moaned and sobbed into his hands. He felt like a wuss, like a helpless little kid. He thought of the baby's tiny little fingers, of Lindsay's soft hair, her eyes, and focused hard on an image of the two of them, burning it into his brain.


	3. Chapter 3

Lindsay woke up feeling warm and fuzzy. She smiled and rolled in her blanket. It smelled like hay. She wondered if she was back in the barn in Montana. She used to make out with her old boyfriend, Stevie Bennet, up in the hayloft where her parents wouldn't go because of the rotting ladder. She smiled. Stevie – she hadn't thought of him in a while. Maybe she'd open her eyes and see him, braces, gangly legs and all, lying beside her. Maybe that would make sense, because nothing else did. When she opened her eyes, though, all she saw was her little baby, swaddled in his blue quilted blanket. She sat up quickly. Blood rushed to her head, and she had to lean on the side of the cold, metal box she seemed to be in.

She pulled the sleeping baby into her lap. The box swayed back and forth with creaks and shakes of the walls. Lindsay held Dominic tighter to her chest. He gave a little grunt and turned towards her.

"You hungry, baby?" she asked softly. She really didn't see what else she could offer him besides a hug, a kiss, and milk. She held him to her chest and lifted her baggy shirt and pulled down her bra cup. She winced as he latched on. As he sucked, she looked around the little box, and decided that she must be in a truck. She could hear a dull roar, presumably of the traffic outside.

Once Dominic had finished, she pulled up her bra and slowly brought her shirt down. The shirt smelled like Danny. Hell, it _was _Danny's. None of her old clothes fit her, same with the maternity clothes she'd accumulated over her pregnancy. She'd resorted to sweats and Danny's baggy shirts. This particular one was gray and worn, with a small hole near the bottom hem and another right at the end of the long sleeve.

Dominic needed to be burped, so she took a blanket next to the one she'd been resting on and threw it over her shoulder. She carefully placed Dominic on her shoulder and patted his back.

The truck swayed and creaked, and the dull roar of the traffic became less and less. Dominic opened his eyes and looked up at his mother. Lindsay held him in her lap, cushioning his body with the thick, quilted blanket. She made happy noises and touched his hands. He made sniffling noises back and tiny little grunts that reminded her of Danny when he slept.

"We'll be fine, baby. We're going to be fine. If I can't fix this, then Daddy's going to come get us in just a little bit, and we'll all go home," she said in her happy baby voice. "Because he loves us so-o-o much. He's going to come get us. And if he doesn't know where we are, I'll fix this. We'll be fine, baby, don't worry," she cooed.

Dominic didn't seem to worry. He grunted and moved his fingers at Lindsay's soft curls, which glowed gold in the light that drifted from the vents in the top of the metal box.

* * *

"Have you checked her cell phone?" Danny asked, leaning over the edge of Adam's chair. Maybe it's on. Check it."

Adam typed quickly, bringing up her number on the screen and checking to see where it was. It was just where he'd expected it to be, at Danny and Lindsay's address.

Danny rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. "Check my cell phone. Maybe she took it."

"It's in your pocket, Danny," Adam said softly.

Danny stomped off without warning and headed into the layout room. Stella was there, reviewing Lindsay's files. Danny nodded hello to her and sat, taking a huge stack of the cases Lindsay had worked on before her pregnancy.

He thumbed through them, acquainting himself with felons and suspects of all types, searching for something, anything.

"Got something," Stella said.

Danny dropped his case file and sat up.

"She didn't … I totally forgot about this, I swear. She never told you, she didn't want it to be a big deal, so –"

"Spit it out," Danny snapped.

"She was hit by a suspect a few weeks before she went off field duty."

"Name?" Danny asked.

"Roger Towers. Some unknown actor. Evidence fingered him as the killer of a nineteen year old girl. When Lindsay and Angell went to talk to him, the guy slapped Lindsay. Angell smacked him back and arrested him for assaulting an officer."

Danny stood up. "Let's go talk to him."

"Danny, we have no evidence that he …"

"What's the address?" He grabbed the file and scanned it, then jogged out of the room.

"Danny!" Stella called. She groaned in exasperation and called Flack to go keep an eye on him.

* * *

"You didn't have to hit him so hard, man," Flack rebuked as he drove back to the lab.

"He deserved it," Danny sniffed, staring out the window.

"He didn't take them. His dentist said he was there all day, undergoing a root canal."

"So? He still hit her."

"Well you didn't have to hit him in the jaw. It was probably sore already."

"Good," Danny grunted. "Now could you _go_ any _slower_? Put the lights on. We gotta get back to the lab."

Don sighed, but did what he was told. He sped past the other cars, weaving in and out of traffic. "There's not much you or I can do right now, Danny," he said softly.

"We can try," Danny said firmly. "We'll only get her back if we try."

"We _are_ trying, Dann-o. Everyone's working overtime. Everyone's worried. We're doing all we can. We are gonna find her, we just need time."

"We can do more," Danny said gruffly. His phone rang. He picked it up halfway through the first ring. He listened quietly for a moment before motioning to Flack to turn around.

"You sure? He's been lookin' at me?" Danny said quickly. "Great. Perfect."

"Where to?"

"A guy from my old neighborhood. Friend of Sassone. Stella says he's been lookin' into me. He tried to bribe some guy who works at the lab to get my file. He got a parking ticket two blocks from our place. He's been watchin' me. Take a right here."

* * *

"So I'll ask you again. Where. Are. They." Danny held his fist up, ready to hit Carlo Bernouli's face again.

"I dunno, I swear," the guy whimpered, speaking around the pool of blood in his mouth. "I dunno, I never took 'em."

Flack looked around uneasily at the greasy apartment. "Danny, maybe we should –"

"Shut it, Flack. Now I'm gonna ask you again," Danny said roughly, pulling out his gun. He shoved it under the man's chin, forcing his eyes to meet with Danny's. "Where is my family?"

Carlo started to whimper. "I … please, Messer, I never took anybody. Sonny told me to keep watch on your place. He wanted to figure out what you were up to, that's all, I swear, man, please," he sobbed, "please don't kill me. I got a wife."

"Yeah?" Danny grunted. "Well so do I. And if I find out you took her, your wife will be a widow. Got it?"

Carlo nodded and gasped heaving breaths as Danny let him fall to the floor. He brushed past Flack and headed out of the apartment, leaving Carlo panting and crying on the floor.

"Your wife?" Flack asked softly as they left the apartment.

"She will be." _As soon as she gets home. 'Right time,' my ass. She's getting married to me the second she comes home._

* * *

Lindsay turned her head quickly when the sliding end of the metal box opened. She blinked in the sunlight, though it was dusky and nearly dark out. She picked up Dominic and held him to her chest.

She kept silent, sitting and watching and letting her eyesight adjust so she could identify the figure at the end of the box.

"Get out," the figure called. "Now."

Lindsay crept out, holding Dominic tight to her chest. He'd fallen asleep in the past few hours. When she had been home with Danny, they'd joked that he was nocturnal – awake and cranky at night, sleepy and calm during the day.

She sat on the edge of the box, letting her body recover from the cramped position. She let herself fall carefully to the ground, absorbing the shock from the baby.

She recognized the figure before her in no time. She gaped at the person, nearly tripping as she walked towards the dark house.

"Why?" she asked, holding the baby close.

"Isn't it obvious? Revenge," the figure retorted, and pushed her onto the porch.

A shaggy lump of a man answered the door wearing filthy jeans and no shirt. Lindsay was transfixed by his hairy chest, until she was pushed into the dark house.

"Watch her until I get this worked out," the figure hissed.

"I can't do that," the shaggy man hissed back.

"You, sit!" the figure spat at Lindsay. Lindsay sat down in the chair to which the figure pointed. The shaggy man tied her ankles to it and taped her chest. They left Lindsay to hold the baby with her untied hands while the two went into the kitchen.

Lindsay heard their murmured voices, falling and rising in volume, until, finally, the shaggy man came back into the room. He looked at Lindsay, rocking the baby slowly, and grunted. The figure left, locking the front door.

"Want food?" the shaggy man asked.

Lindsay nodded. She mentally took down every characteristic of his, from the limping walk to his blonde mane and the scar on the curve of his nose. She was preparing to identify him, if she ever got out of this mess.

"Daddy's coming," she promised Dominic. "Just a little more."

Dominic sniffled.

The shaggy man returned holding a hunk of bread, which he fed to Lindsay. She wanted to spit it out, sensing the stale crunch and the lack of flavor, but she knew that it was better for Dominic if she ate.

She let herself pretend that Danny was feeding her toast, like he had no more than a day or so ago. She closed her eyes and imagined his slow breathing, his soft chuckle, and his soft touch to her face.

She opened her eyes to see that it was the shaggy man whose hand was resting on her cheek. She nudged it off with a flick of her head.

"Let the baby go," she hissed. "Let him go and I'll do what you want."

The shaggy man shook his head. "Just do what I tell you, and you'll live."


	4. Chapter 4

Danny thought of the baby's chin. Mac told him to sleep. He didn't want to. He wanted to remember that little chin, with the little point to it. Those little lips, the way the pink baby tongue looked when he yawned. His favorite parts were the hands. They were not even big enough to cover Danny's palm. Just the bottom half of it. He could fit the width of two fingers across the length of those hands, but no more. His favorite thing to do with the baby had been to hold out one finger like he was about to handle a bird, and watch as his son's fingers slowly curled around him. Two days since he'd done that. Two long, sleepless days.

He closed his eyes in the dark of the break room and pictured the hands. The tongue. The yawns. The lips. The chin.

"Fuck this," he muttered, and rolled off the couch. He rubbed his eyes, palms out, and shuffled into the layout room, where Adam and Sheldon stood in front of a cluttered table. "Any change?" he asked Adam.

"You need to get some rest," Sheldon said from the other end of the table. "You're completely exhausted."

"No," Danny grunted, and that was that. They worked silently, looking over Lindsay's case load again, hoping to find something.

"She did a lot…" Adam muttered.

Stella slammed into the room, shouting, "Danny, come with me," she looked excited and anxious, her curls slipping from the rubber band that held her hair back.

Danny asked her a thousand questions as they ran to the car. Stella responded only with a quiet, "we're hopeful," and a few sighs of, "we're not sure."

"Jesus, Stella, just tell me what you know," he yelled as she pulled out into the street, lights flashing.

"They found a baby. He was covered in a blue blanket. He appears to be unharmed. He's at the hospital."

Danny sat up in his seat. "Is it … is it my son?"

Stella bit her lip. "We're not sure. He was wrapped in a blue blanket matching the description of yours – with a quilted pattern? – and the hospital staff took a cheek swab. They're going to run his DNA against yours, just to make sure. But we're on our way anyways."

Danny leaped out of the car while it was still moving. He raced inside and shoved away a man with a bloody nose from the front desk.

"Baby. A baby? John Doe? Where?" he breathed. The stunned woman pointed to the elevator.

"S-second floor nursery," she stuttered.

Danny headed for the elevator, quickly deemed it too slow, and ran up the stairs, three at a time. He stumbled out onto the floor and walked up to one of the nurses.

"There's a baby here? You took a DNA sample?"

The nurse steered Danny to a small room where a baby lay in a plastic carrier, sucking on his fingers.

Danny leaned over and watched the hands. He looked at the chin. He smiled. Dominic yawned.

A nurse sitting next to the table looked up at him. "We thought you guys wanted to process him, so we used gloves. He didn't like that. He was screaming his head off. Do you want to be alone with him?"

Danny nodded. He knew that if he spoke, he'd cry. He unclasped the plastic bubble and lifted the baby up into his arms. Dominic closed his eyes and rested his head against Danny's chest.

Stella walked in, holding her kit. "Do you want to process him, or should I?"

"Me. I'll do it," Danny rasped. He shook his head when Stella offered him a pair of gloves. "I need to touch him," he explained.

He took the q-tips Stella handed him and swabbed the small patch of creamy trace next to the baby's ear. He handed it back. He took samples of the tiny bits of powder under the baby's nails. Stella helped him pluck the hay from Dominic's blue blanket.

"I'll take the blanket back to the lab and process it right away."

They carefully unfolded the blanket. Danny refused to let go of the baby. As he carefully placed Dominic on his shoulder, releasing him from the blanket, a scrap of gray fabric fluttered to the ground. Stella knelt and picked it up. She gasped at the writing on it.

"Danny," she said slowly. She lifted the fabric and laid it on the table. Danny squinted at the dark red lettering.

B-O-M-B.

"What is she talking about?" Danny muttered. "What's your mommy tryin' to say?" he asked the baby on his shoulder. Dominic gave a little snuffle in response. Danny rocked him softly, thinking back. It hit Danny like a ton of bricks. "Jesse. The bomb," he said slowly. "Stella, it has somethin' to do with Jesse."

"The kid who blew himself up in front of you and Linds?"

Danny nodded. "You gotta interview the parents." He picked up Stella's kit with one hand and was already out the door. She gathered the evidence and headed out after him.

"Danny, this is ridiculous. We're not even sure that's what she meant. What if there was a bomb on the baby?"

"There's no bomb on my son."

"Well, there could be."

Danny whipped around in the elevator, causing Dominic to whimper. His face was set. "I know what she meant. She's my wife."

"She's not your –"

"She's my wife," he said firmly, "Or she will be. Doesn't matter what she is, even, because right now the only thing we gotta do is find her."

* * *

Danny got the baby sling from his apartment, where he saw Adam working on the lock on the door.

"Just trying to work out how they got in," he explained. Danny nodded. He put his head through the sling and settled Dominic in it. He brushed back the baby's head. He couldn't stop thinking how Lindsay had held him, how Lindsay had taken care of him only a few hours before. He felt connected to her, and clung to the thought desperately.

He walked out of the apartment with a nod at Adam, who jumped up and back.

"What?" Danny asked. "I scare ya?"

Adam shook his head slowly. "Not that."

"Well, what then?" Danny's patience was running too thin. He felt the baby moving against his chest, and knew he'd have to feed Dominic in a minute or two.

"I know how they got in."

"How?" Danny grunted.

"There's blue molding clay here, maybe from the key. I'll have to run it through the mass spec to be sure, but I'd know it when I see it; I've seen it so many times before that I'm sure-"

"Great. Common molding clay. Thanks, Adam, you're really doin' wonders, here," Danny snapped sarcastically. He took the baby bottles he'd collected from the fridge, and left, stomping down the hall so hard that Dominic gave a grunt of discomfort.

Danny stopped at the sound, and turned, ready to apologize to Adam, whose foot was the only visible part of him, sticking out of the door at the end of the hall. Danny stared for a moment, caught between going back and apologizing or just letting Adam figure out that Danny was worn down to bone with fear and desperation. Dominic grunted, and Danny gave him a soft pat to the backside in comfort, and turned away from Adam and the doorway. _The kid can figure it out._

* * *

Adam, meanwhile, was frozen in shame. He stared at the door, chiding himself for being so stupid, for thinking so trivial a discovery would matter. _But then, _he thought, _Doesn't Mac always say that every piece of evidence matters? But just molding clay - how stupid is that? It's just clay. There's nothing -_ He stopped himself, and thought for a moment.

"This better work," he muttered hurriedly, and picked up his things. He raced out of the apartment building, passing Danny as he left.

"Adam, I'm -" Danny started, mumbling to Adam.

"Doesn't matter," Adam blurted, running backwards to shout his response, "I - I'll - thank me later!"

Danny stared at Adam as the kid hopped into his car, throwing the evidence into the front seat, and drove away with a painful screech. Danny watched him, slack-jawed, and shook his head. Dominic gave a little moan.

"What's up, buddy, you hungry?" Danny asked him, and sat down in the front seat of his car, pulling out a bottle from the bag he'd just collected from the apartment. "Mommy saved some food for you," he cooed gently, helping Dominic drink the bottle. "She's gonna be right back, Dominic, I promise. I'm gonna find her, and then we'll all do somethin' together. We'll go out, or ... I dunno. Maybe we'll go to Montana, let your Mommy take a breather. She's gonna be pretty damn - darn - tired when she gets back, so we're gonna have to be real good for her." Dominic watched him with his blue eyes as he drank the bottle. He reached a hand up and touched the bottle Danny held, his tiny fingers splayed on the clear plastic.

Danny smiled weakly. "That sounds good, doesn't it, kid? Eh, wadda you care, all you want is food and sleep. Well, we'd better get back to the lab, right? We gotta get back to findin' your mommy. She's probably gettin' pretty worried wonderin' where we are."


	5. Chapter 5

_If I get one review on this, the pattern will be complete! It goes 16,8,4,2 ... what comes next?? Sorry, my OCD picked that up :)_

* * *

Stella walked into the break room to find Danny sleeping, for the first time in nearly three days, on the couch, with Dominic pillowed on his chest. Danny's arms were wrapped around the baby, his recently worried face eased with sleep. She smiled at the two of them. Even though Dominic was barely three weeks old, she could find traces of his parents in him. The little nose was Lindsay's, the lips Danny's.

"He's been out for the past couple of hours," Hawkes said softly, walking into the room. "It's good," he said, pouring himself and Stella cups of coffee, "He hasn't slept in too long."

"He beat up two suspects," Stella frowned.

Sheldon shrugged. "If I was in that situation, I would, too."

"It's not right," Stella said, "He broke protocol."

"Honestly, Stell, can you blame him? Really?"

She thought for a moment. "I don't know… I guess not."

They watched Danny sleep briefly before walking out of the break room together.

"I'm worried about her," Stella said, "I mean, we all are, I know," she said quickly, "but it's all I can think about, Sheldon, I really can't focus."

"She's strong," Sheldon assured her, "For God's sakes, it's Lindsay. She can pull through anything." He was aware of how cliché and ridiculous he sounded, but, in truth, it was all that he was relying on himself.

* * *

"YES!" Adam screamed. "YES, thank you!" He jogged happily around the little trace lab, dancing and shouting.

"Adam? What is it?" A young lab tech named Petra asked. Adam gave no response. He kissed her loudly on the cheek and raced over to Mac's office.

* * *

"Cow shit," Adam said proudly as he stepped into Mac's office.

Mac gave a blank stare to the harried lab tech standing triumphantly in front of him.

"It's – I'm a genius."

"How?" Mac asked slowly.

Adam flashed him a grin. "There were traces of it in the blue clay I collected from the door lock. Someone was making a copy of the key using the blue clay, and whatever they were wearing – gloves, probably – transferred cow manure to the clay."

"And?" Mac asked, standing up and walking out of the office with Adam.

"I analyzed the cow manure. There was evidence of a disease in the manure – Coccidiosis, if you really want to know. It's kind of interesting. It's a one celled parasite that can cause calves to –"

"Adam," Mac said firmly, "I don't care."

"Right. Well it was in the manure. There are three cattle farms within a hundred mile radius of New York who have reported cases of it."

"Three?"

"Well, yes," Adam said, suddenly realizing that he may have kissed a basic stranger on the cheek for nothing.

Mac sighed. "It's good, Adam, it is. It's just … close, but not enough. We have to narrow it down. Can you get me the names of the owners?"

Adam nodded and started rifling through the papers he was holding.

"Mac!" Stella called from down the hallway.

Mac looked up. She raced over to him, grinning wildly.

"I have something," she said, "Do you remember the Ryan case?"

Mac frowned pensively. "The fifteen year old kid with a bomb?"

Stella nodded. "Lindsay left a message on the baby."

"I know," Mac said, "it said bomb, right?"

Stella nodded. "The husband, Kevin, left his wife about two weeks ago. I called around, and she's been missing for the past few days – no one has seen or heard from her since a day before Lindsay went missing."

Mac's eyes widened.

"Not to mention," Stella continued, "The trace Danny found on Dominic came back as a dairy based substance – either dried milk or cheese. That, coupled with the hay we found on his blanket, makes me think that they're at some kind of –"

"Dairy farm," Adam interrupted.

"Are there any farms owned by someone Ryan?" Mac asked hopefully.

Adam glanced over the papers, then shook his head.

"What about Pike? That's Calista's maiden name. Maybe it's a family member's farm."

"'Thurmond Pike.' Brother maybe?" Adam said jubilantly.

"No time to find out. Let's get out there," Mac said quickly.

* * *

Lindsay was burning hot. Sweat dripped down her cheek. Her body burned slowly. All she could do was lie on her back in the stifling barn and remember to breathe. In and out. In and out. Slow and even. She pretended she was back home, matching her breathing with Danny's on the nights before the pregnancy, when she'd come home late from work to find him sleeping already. She wished the baby was still with her. At least then she'd had someone to be brave for. Now all she could do was wonder what else there was.

She knew the baby was safe, at least. The shaggy man had sworn that he'd placed the baby within eyeshot of a nurse. Danny would manage taking care of Dominic; he knew Lsudden she was wishing he'd come back so she wouldn't be so worthless anymore. Before, she was a mother. _Now I'm just hay, _she thought dreamily, _just one more straw of hay. _She worked on lying straight and thin as she could, becoming one with the padding below her.

* * *

"I _have_ to go."

Mac shook his head as he Velcro-ed his vest on. "It's not deba-"

"Don't _tell _me it's non-debatable, Mac, or I will hurt you," Danny said dangerously.

Mac watched him with dark eyes for a moment before nodding. "If I tell you to back off, you do it. Flack's told me how you've been with suspects. I can't have that happen, Danny."

"It won't, if we find her. I swear – if she's there, I'll back off. I just gotta be the one to see her first, Mac, the one she sees, OK? I don't want her to be alone. That's all." His voice trembled with emotion.

Mac sighed and nodded. Danny flashed him a quick grin and ran off to get a vest and his gun.

* * *

_The shaggy man had a shaggy stomach, _Lindsay thought sleepily. The pain between her legs would slip away if she slipped into her own mind. _Shaggy, shaggy man, all over._

Voices drifted from behind the barn door. One angry voice, one shaggy, dopey voice. Lindsay couldn't make out more than bits and pieces of words. They became clearer with the rough sliding of the door as someone shoved it open.

"You stupid, horny man. The baby was the whole point."

"Well, how was I 'sposed to know that, Calista? You told me to watch the girl, not the baby."

"Well did I tell you to get _rid _of the baby? Better yet, did I tell you to _fuck _the _girl?" _

"How do you know that's what I did?"

"Oh, don't be stupid. I can smell it. And for god's sake, look at her. She's bleeding. And you've got … cum on your pants."

"You never said to keep the baby," the man grumbled, repeating himself.

While they talked, Lindsay gathered strength like growing fire in her limbs. She let it spread through her, tensed, and, when she heard them move away from her, stood and ran. She ran towards the crunch of an arriving car that she'd just barely heard moments earlier, towards the sound of feet on gravel. Her legs were jelly – uncoordinated and bendy, but she made it to the small door, shoved it open, and ran straight into Danny. He stopped her from falling and looked at her as she lay limp, supported by his forearms.

As the yelling became louder and harsher, hurried and desperate, Danny holstered his gun and lifted her up. He let the group of armed cops run by him, then hurried off to the ambulance parked in the corner of the property. He laid her down on the gurney and climbed inside.

"Go," he cried to the paramedics. As he reached out to hold her hand he saw blood just below his elbow, where he'd been cradling her legs.

"Blood," he said quickly, "she's got … she's bleeding. Do something." He found her hand and squeezed it.

The paramedic quickly checked her body, tracing the blood back to the source.

"Ma'am, are you menstruating?" she asked Lindsay, cupping the woman's cheek to focus her attention.

"No," Lindsay whispered.

Danny saw the quick flash of panic in the paramedic's eyes.

"What?" he asked hoarsely, "What is it? What does that mean?"

The woman's eyes flashed from Lindsay to Danny, as if deciding whether or not to worry them. "She might …" she paused and lowered her voice, "be bleeding internally. We have to get to the hospital to make sure –"

"I'm not," Lindsay murmured from the gurney.

"Just relax, baby, OK? Just close your eyes. Don't worry. Just hold my hand and relax, it's –"

"I had sex. That's why I'm bleeding. I was still sore from the birth," Lindsay explained.

Danny blinked. He fought the pain building inside him at her choice of words, then wrestled his own feelings down and focused on her. She couldn't look at him until he forced her to, turning her head gently towards him. He kissed her softly, felt her face grow wet with tears.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks kcatlin for her immense support/suggestions on this one._

* * *

When she opened her eyes the first time, they gave her tests – too many. There was a whirlwind of poking and prodding and shaking of heads. She closed them again when Stella asked her to tell all.

The second time she opened her eyes, her room was silent as a tomb. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and wondered if she looked as ugly as she felt. She caught a flash of mirror in the bathroom. She slowly, achingly moved her legs to the side of the bed. A small tug on the top of her hand held her back, and she looked to find an IV. She turned to work out how to unhook it.

"No, no, no," Danny murmured from the doorway to her room. He put down the cup of coffee he was holding and reached for her to lay back down. She flinched. He took a step back.

"I – sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to."

His eyes were hurt, but he managed a fake look of indifference to the fact that the love of his life was scared to touch him.

"Try again?" she asked with a sweet smile.

He relaxed and helped her back, moving slowly and letting her watch his hands. He set her back against the pillow, and she relaxed into his smell and his soft touch, let them lull her back to before.

"Can I see Dominic?" she asked hopefully.

Danny took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sat down on her bed. "Adam's got him. They'll be here in a little while. He babysat while I went to get you."

He reached out a hand and stroked her hair, for him, not for her. She watched him with dark eyes, frightened of the way he was speaking and staring, like some giant elephant in the room was about to attack.

"Before you ask," she started, speaking with tears in her eyes, "I'm not ready to talk about it. I just want to see the baby." Danny eased himself down beside her to hold her gently.

"The baby's going to be hungry," he mused, "I used all the breast milk we had in the fridge an hour before I came to find you. I was thinkin' we were gonna have to switch to formula."

"Well, I'm all set to go," she mumbled, suddenly very sleepy in his arms.

Danny laughed.

"Seriously," she said, "they're totally full right now. If someone doesn't suck them soon, they'll actually explode."

"Maybe don't yell that if you're in a crowded bar," Danny chuckled.

Adam burst in, cradling the screaming baby, and handed him off to Danny. "Sorry," he yelled over the cries, "we hit traffic, and you told me if I took any risks, you'd lock me in a basement and feed me bugs for the rest of my life, so I came as fast as I could, but –"

Danny cut him off with a clap to the shoulder. "You did good, man. Now, unless you wanna see her breastfeed, I suggest you leave."

Adam blushed an intense shade of violet pink, and left, smiling at Lindsay and giving a little wave.

Danny crawled behind Lindsay and helped her support the baby. He guided her head to rest in the crook of his neck. The baby stopped crying and quickly started eating. When the baby had finished, Danny discovered that both the baby and Lindsay were fast asleep. He nudged and tugged Lindsay until she was lying comfortably on the bed, then lifted the baby off of her chest and asked the nurse on duty for a bassinet.

Once Lindsay and the baby were settled in their respective beds, Danny sat back in his chair and watched them. He fought his eyelids as they dropped, and refused to sleep until Mac arrived and promised to put another officer at the door in return for Danny's promise to sleep.

Danny crawled in bed next to Lindsay, only to have the baby begin to cry. Lindsay awoke with a small grunt, and let Danny help her breastfeed again.

"He's nocturnal," Lindsay said sleepily.

* * *

Stella bit the end of her pen, waiting for Lindsay to begin.

Lindsay locked her eyes shut, trying to get everything into focus.

The clock ticked. Someone in the room next door sighed.

Lindsay blinked open her eyes. "I need him in here."

Stella nodded and headed out to the hallway, returning with Danny trundling along behind her. He pulled over the chair beside her bed and sat next to her, holding her hand.

Lindsay smiled gratefully at him and turned back to Stella.

"They took us while we were sleeping," she began, "I remember being awake for a second before I smelled the chloroform. I was out like a light after that. I woke up in a big metal box – a truck. Calista opened the doors and took us out. She had a man with her. He tied me to a chair while they talked. Calista left the house." She waited for Stella to stop writing and look up before continuing.

Stella nodded.

Lindsay took a big breath and tried to explain. "The baby wasn't safe. He wasn't. It was dangerous." She looked at Danny for confirmation. "He wasn't safe," she repeated.

Danny nodded, understanding spreading to his face. "You had ta get him out," he said slowly.

Lindsay nodded.

"What did you have to do?" Stella probed gently.

Lindsay's voice was soft yet steady. "I proposed something to him."

"His name was Thrumond Pike," Stella added.

"Oh. Well I saw … Thurmond … looking at me and I knew he wanted me. So I suggested that he take the baby to a hospital and then I'd give him what he wanted. He agreed. When Calista came back, I heard you coming and I ran," she finished quickly.

"He raped you," Stella said quietly.

Lindsay shook her head. "It was sex. It was my idea, anyways. For the baby."

Stella glanced down at her papers. Danny held Lindsay's hand tighter and shifted in his seat. He cleared his throat. "Linds," he said gently, "you'd just had a baby. He … there was a lot of tearing. You musta been in a hell of a lot of pain. The doctor said that you probably passed out. That's not sex, it's …" he faltered.

Lindsay's eyes widened as she realized something. "Will I be OK?" she asked. The thought struck her that she'd never be with Danny again.

"You'll be fine," Danny assured her, "they stitched you up. You just gotta be really careful for a few months."

Stella gathered her things and stood. "I'm going to have to go over this with you later, kiddo, in more detail. But right now, just get better." She touched Lindsay's cheek with the back of her hand and left.

Lindsay watched the door close, then turned to Danny and said quickly, "Don't lie to me, Danny. Will I be OK? You know, down … there?"

He smiled. "Doctor says you'll be fine, baby. Just no horseback riding for a while."

She grinned cheekily. "No Danny riding?"

His eyes widened, then he laughed. "Nope. Not 'til you're healed."

"How will you ever manage?" she snorted. He crawled onto the bed and lay next to her, facing her. She watched the ceiling, oblivious to his thoughts.

"If I have you guys, I'll be OK," he murmured. She turned to look at him. "I really can't live without either of you. I always sorta knew I wouldn't. But now I know I really can't." His voice shook.

"Danny," she murmured.

"No, Linds, please, just listen, I gotta say it. I don't care if you say it's the wrong time to propose, or whatever, 'cause you're wrong. There's no real time to say it; if anything it's overdue." He took a deep breath. "So, all I'm sayin' is, I really need you to marry me. I don't _want _you to anymore, I'm not really asking either. I'm just telling you that I _need_ you to. I just want you to know that. And I really hope you'll do something about it."

She smiled at him, sniffling to hold in the lump in her throat. "I think I need it, too," she said, her voice breaking.

"Really?" he murmured, holding her cheek with one hand. She rolled onto her side slowly and nodded.

He leaned in and kissed her softly, softer than he ever had before, reveling in her taste and the way her lips felt against his. She sighed happily against his lips.

He broke the kiss a few moments later and lay next to her on the bed, their faces close. "What were you looking for? When you said you needed the 'right time'?" Danny asked. It had been bugging him for weeks.

Lindsay shrugged slightly. "I wanted you to take your time. That's it. I just wanted … well, it was selfish, really… I wanted to feel it, to really _feel_ that you wanted it, not that you had to do it." She smiled. "And I do feel it. I always did, I just never saw it."


	7. Chapter 7

It's been a long time...

* * *

"I thought you were going home, Messer!" Don shouted over the sound of the blaring music and Danny's grunts and punches.

Don turned down the heavy metal to a bearable level and watched his friend pound away at a punching bag. Danny was wearing his workout pants and his white wife-beater shirt, despite the freezing cold temperature in the gym.

Danny came back, steadied the punching bag, and looked at Don, panting heavily. "No, Flack, I'm not. It's been almost three months. I can't touch her, I can't hold her, I can't even look at her too long before she looks away!" He turned around and hit the bag again with a quick set of punches.

"Who, Monroe? She say that?" Don asked, surprised.

"She doesn't have to," Danny grunted, enunciating each word with a punch.

Don came and stood behind the punching bag, bracing it against the force of Danny's beating.

"Look, Danny, I don't think she thinks that."

Danny stood straighter and stopped punching. "Why? She say something to you?"

"No, it's just – well Christ, Danny, you're just gettin' intimate with a punching bag at a gym instead of staying home with your wife and kid!"

"She ain't my wife," Danny said, gritting his teeth and hitting the bag again.

Don came around from behind the bag and shoved Danny to the ground. Danny landed on his butt and stared surprised up at Don. "What the fuck, man?" he all but yelled.

"Don't say shit like that. She's your wife; you know it. I know you bought her a ring – I've seen you playin' around with it for almost a year now. I can't even believe you haven't given it to her yet."

"How's she supposed to be my wife," Danny said angrily, getting up from the ground, "if I can't get close to her."

With a strangled yell, Don tackled a half-standing Danny back to the ground. He put a knee to his friend's chest and socked him in the jaw. "What, so you can't have sex with her so you don't want her anymore?" Don bellowed.

"No, that's not what I –" Danny started, moving to shove Don off.

Don interrupted him with another punch to the face. "You fuckin' jerk, I thought she meant more to you than just –"

Danny interrupted this time by rolling the two of them over and returning Don's violence with a bit of his own. He smacked Don in the face with his wrapped hand. "I would never, _ever_ think that," he snarled, "so don't even bother gettin' worked up about it. I just – she doesn't want me anymore. I can't do anything without hurting her. The other day, I told her she looked nice, and she started crying. Freaking out that some guy on the street might see her that way and try to hurt her. Nothing I say comes out right! How am I supposed to be her husband if I can't even do that, huh?"

He pushed hard on Don's chest. "I don't care if we have sex again. I really don't. But if I can't even talk to her, much less look at her without making her feel bad for the rest of my life? I can't do that. I can't."

Don used Danny's sore muscles and limp arms to shove him off. He stood, and reached down a hand to Danny to pull him up. Danny looked up, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and accepted Don's hand.

"Talk to her," Don said simply.

Danny waved his hand dismissively at Don, making a 'psht,' sound, "I already tried talkin'."

"No, tell her what you told me. Just don't yell it, right?" he smirked.

Danny sighed, and nodded. "Thanks, man." He turned to leave, unwrapping his hands.

"Oh, and Danny?"

"What?"

"Take a shower first."

"Wiseass," Danny muttered as he walked to the showers.

--

He opened the door quietly, aware that it was well past eleven. He shut it gently behind him, waiting for the click of the lock. He locked the second lock he'd installed the day after he'd brought Lindsay home. He crept into the kitchen, running a hand through his drying hair, still a little wet from the shower. He carefully put the milk he'd picked up into the fridge and walked into Dominic's room.

The baby had grown big, and was sucking his thumb and kicking his feet absentmindedly at the ceiling.

"Hey, buddy," Danny whispered. Dominic raised up a hand and wiggled his fingers at Danny. Danny took the hand and closed his larger one around it, rocking it back and forth. "Were you good for your mommy?" he asked.

Dominic blinked and smiled around his thumb.

"Guess so," Danny chuckled. He let go of Dominic's hand and, like he had every night, checked Dominic's window to make sure it was locked. He kissed Dominic on the head and padded into his and Lindsay's room. Lindsay was on the chair in the corner, staring vacantly out the window. Her back was to him, but he could see her profile – legs pulled up into her chest, arms wrapped around her knees.

"Hey, honey," Danny said gently.

Lindsay jumped about a foot in the air, catching herself from falling by reaching out to the window. Her hand hit it with a loud smack, her back slammed into the wall.

"Oh," she said, realizing who it was.

Danny sighed. "Sorry, baby," he said gently. She moved away from the wall and went over to him. She hesitantly kissed his cheek, and murmured that she was going to go get something to drink.

He took off his work clothes and changed into sweats and a baggy t-shirt before heading out into the kitchen after her. He made sure she knew he was coming this time, letting his feet slap the hardwood floors of their apartment. She was stirring a cup of tea when he came in.

"Hey, can we talk?" he asked, sitting down in one of the chairs at the counter. Lindsay looked up.

"I'm not in the mood," she muttered, looking down again, "I'm really tired."

"Well, we need to," Danny said, watching her move around the kitchen. She put the sugar and milk away and tested the tea with her pinky finger. She deemed it acceptable and took a sip. She looked up and saw him watching her.

"Stop," she mumbled, blushing red.

"You don't want me to look at you?" Danny asked. It still stung every time he realized that she didn't want even that.

"I – Danny, not now," she said tiredly.

"No," Danny said firmly, "now. I'm tired of this – we need to talk about it. Or if we don't, then we at least need to talk about getting you some kind of therapy."

"I had therapy. I hated it," she reminded him, taking another sip of her tea, staring into it.

"It doesn't – damn it, Lindsay at least _look_ at me!" he yelled. Lindsay looked up, her eyes wide. They showed surprise more than fright, Danny noted. "It's been almost three months, and you won't even do that!"

"I can't have sex yet, Danny," she sighed, "If that's what you're –"

"That's not what I want!" he roared. Then, more quietly, "why does everyone assume that? I just want you to at least tell me something – anything, that you're not OK, that you're still scared, that you need me, or that you don't – I don't even care anymore what you say, Linds."

She met his gaze. "That's it?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. That's it. And then, later, more. I want you to get better, and I don't fucking care how slow it goes, but you _aren't getting better. _You're getting worse. You're sinking into yourself, more every day, and you aren't letting me or anyone do a damn thing about it." His voice shook. He stood up out of his chair and walked towards her.

She took a step back. "Don't move away, Lindsay," Danny said angrily, "You know I'm not going to hurt you. Hell, I'm _telling _you. I won't touch you if that's what you want. But what _I_ want" he gestured to himself, "is for you to just talk about what happened. I gave you your space. Now I'm taking it back. Tell me what happened."

"No," she said, more strong than he'd expected.

"Tell me," he demanded. He knew he was pushing her, but he also knew it was the only way to get her to open up.

"No!" she shouted.

"Tell me how you felt," he hissed, "don't lie again. Don't tell me you 'had to do it,' don't tell me 'it was sex,' cause I know it wasn't. You _screamed_, Lindsay, the guy said you yelled – it had to hurt. Did it? Did it hurt, Lindsay?"

"Stop it!" she shrieked. He was a few inches from her, never touching, keeping to his promise, but closing her in nevertheless.

"Tell me," he repeated, "Tell me what you felt."

"It fucking killed," Lindsay said, her voice breaking. She swallowed and stood up straighter, looking Danny dead in the eye. "It hurt so badly. It felt like I was right back in the emergency room giving birth, only _you_ weren't there. I was all alone," she hissed, "and you didn't come get me! You didn't come when I needed you. I kept thinking that you'd come right in the door before he went … inside, that I wouldn't have to do it. But then he was there," she sobbed, "he did it and you never came to get me."

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly, taking a step back to give her more room. She grabbed the counter and squeezed it, turning her knuckles white.

"I hated you," she screamed, "I hated you for never coming." Dominic started to wail in the next room. "Great," she said exasperatedly, "the baby's crying." She headed for the baby's bedroom, stomping on the floor.

Danny grabbed her wrist and brought her back to look at him. "This is more important."

Lindsay looked at him questioningly, then wrenched her hand away from Danny's. "Why didn't you come earlier?" she demanded. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"I tried," he said softly, "I did, honey, and I came as soon as we found out where you were."

"It wasn't soon enough," she screeched over the baby's cries. She slapped him hard in the face. He blinked and stared back at her. Her eyes widened and she stepped back. "Oh, God, I'm sor-"

Danny shushed her by opening his arms in a defense-less gesture. "Go."

She needed no further prodding. With a heavy grunt, she hit him again. She smacked him again and again. It hurt; she could tell in the way that he winced when she hit the same spot twice. The hits grew less and less until she found herself sobbing in his arms, actually enjoying the way his arms felt around her.

She reveled in the way he stroked her hair, revoking all his previous promises to maintain his distance. He let her cry it out, then lifted her, making up for the months of solidarity. He lay her down gently on the bed and went to settle Dominic. He rocked the baby until he was quiet, then returned to the bedroom where Lindsay had changed into an old t-shirt and was lying on the bed.

Danny crawled in next to her, keeping his distance, though not by much.

Lindsay rolled over and, to Danny's surprise, cuddled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm going to go see the therapist again," she said.

"That's good," he replied, stroking her back slowly, "As long as it makes you feel better, I don't care what you do."

"We haven't kissed much, have we?" she asked softly.

"We shouldn't just 'cause we haven't done it –"

She abruptly kissed him, just a touching of lips. He could barely contain himself – three months of not touching her had taken its toll on him. He parted his mouth and sucked in her bottom lip, biting it gently. She smiled against him, willing him to move forwards, but he did no such thing. He pulled away and smiled.

"Tomorrow night, we'll go a little further," he promised. She let him hold her until they fell asleep.


End file.
